After Dark
by scarylolita
Summary: Kenny loses his temper after finding out one of his closest friends hooked up with his ex-girlfriend. To soothe the anger and betrayal he feels, he decides to torment the easiest target... which happens to be Craig. Slash.


**South Park © Matt & Trey.**

 **This story is very bitter.**

 **Warning: Kenny is not nice in this fic  
Other warnings: manipulation, cheating, OOC**

 **Kenny's POV**

* * *

 _I could have lost myself  
In rough blue waters in your eyes_

Joshua Radin

 **1.**

Me and Craig aren't speaking. I don't know whose fault it was, but I feel like it was mostly mine.

Bebe and Craig slept together two months ago. She dumped me last year, but finding that out about it still made me go fucking nuts. I just remember thinking about how much I hated Craig for touching her and how I wanted to fucking punish him.

"He was so kinky!" Bebe kept saying and then she'd talk about how he let her finger his asshole.

That wasn't what I wanted to hear.

I approached him afterwards. I started yelling and nothing he said was what I wanted him to say. He didn't apologize. He didn't even seem guilty. He just seemed completely indifferent and apathetic. Like always.

"You fucked Bebe!" I shouted accusingly.

"Yeah," he responded, sounding flat.

So, I punched him in the face and sent him falling to the ground. He looked stunned, like he honestly couldn't believe I just hit him.

"It's open season on sluts, Tucker!" I shouted, pointing my finger at him as a warning of what was to come.

Then he started crying.

Nichole was just around the corner. When she heard him bawling her mommy-mode kicked in. She helped him up and then drove him home, but not before telling me that I'm a piece of shit. I'm bigger and stronger than he is, so I guess it was a stupid thing to do.

Everyone gave me serious shit for that later on. Everyone thought I was the asshole. Token, Clyde, Kevin, all the girls and even that dick-head Jason. They were all pissed off. Even my own crew of friends were surprised, I think. Stan and Kyle kind of shook their heads at me, but Eric thought it was funny.

Everyone treats Craig like a delicate little flower. I don't get why.

I went to his place later on that night after downing half a quart of rum. I was still really fucking angry. I felt like he turned everyone against me by crying like that.

"What the hell was that stunt you pulled?" I asked, shoving him. "Now everyone thinks I'm a jackass!"

He stumbled, but he didn't fall this time. "You are," he bit back after gaining his composure.

And I know it sounds so fucking stupid, but amidst all the arguing I just fucking kissed him. I grabbed his face, shutting him up when he was busying spitting insults in my face. He stopped and I just planted a rough one on him. When I pulled away, I expected him to get mad, but he didn't.

He paused for a while and then he finally said, "Do it again."

And I did.

And it progressed until I had Craig on the floor beneath me. A few minutes of rolling around on the rug in front of the fireplace in his living room, I stopped and I just stared down at him.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked, perching himself up on his elbows and staring at me.

I didn't know if he was playing coy of if he's just stupid. Nonetheless, I told him, "I'm going to fuck you."

"Oh," he murmured, lying back down.

"Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah… I'm okay with that."

And that's how I ended up sleeping with one of my friends - something I once promised myself I'd never do.

Do I regret it? Hell yeah.

Would I do it again? Probably.

It's true what people say– Craig is a good lay. He fucks like he's on acid. He's loud, too. He was a lot more vocal than I expected him to be… not that it was really something I ever put much thought into.

I was such an asshole that night. I was rough, too. I should have been gentler because he's not made of the sternest stuff. He let out a lot of pained gasps, but he didn't tell me to stop. I was so fucking angry. I kept saying all this horrible shit to him.

" _Did you let Bebe do this?"_

" _Who else have you done this with?"_

" _You look like a slut with that expression."_

" _Are you some kind of masochist?"_

I don't know what came over me. I'd like to blame the alcohol, but there are times when I really treat him like shit and he lets it happen. Maybe that's why I was so quick to act like a fucking jerk. He got off first, but I still kept fucking him. He was making a lot of sounds. I know it was probably because having an orgasm made him hyper-sensitive. I doubt it even felt good. It probably bordered on being painful.

I guess I ended up pushing him over the edge. He ended up crying again when we were done and I just stood over him, staring. Then his parents walked in which made everything about a thousand times worse. Craig wasn't wearing anything. I was fully dressed.

I know what it looked like. I know what they probably think happened. What I don't know is what Craig told them. That was the last time we spoke. I couldn't bring myself to even ask. I couldn't bring myself to even look at him.

Two weeks after that happened, Craig started dating a senior – Steven Tamil. I never told anyone what we did. I don't think he did, either. It's too shitty to think about, let alone say aloud.

* * *

Right now, me and Bebe are studying at the public library. We've been at it for a few hours and we're starting to get tired. Things are tense between us, but we're trying not to let it get in the way of school. We have projects to finish... and if I treated a girl like shit, then people would think I'm an even bigger asshole.

"Kenny?" she says my name.

"What?" I respond, not yet bothering to look up from my work.

"It wasn't supposed to…" she trails off and sighs. "It wasn't supposed to get this messed up."

I sigh audibly at that. "Why'd you fuck him?" I bite out, glancing up at her and staring across the table.

She shrugs, wrapping her arms around herself. "I just… I wanted to, I guess. He's so good looking and he was inviting. The fact that he wanted to do it with me made me feel pretty and shit because I know he's picky with the people he lets into his bed. We were talking about sex and mindlessly watching repeats of _Friends_ when he brought it up. So, really, how could I decline?"

"Do you like him?" I ask, feeling bitter.

I understand, though. I do. Craig is a beautiful guy. Girls like him. Boys like him. Everyone likes him. He has the kind of face you can't help but become enamoured with. His features are sharp, but his expressions are always soft. He has large, blue eyes that you could get lost in. His skin is smooth and fair and his face is completely unblemished apart from a little mole below his left eye. His hair is thick, black and wavy and he always keeps it tidy. He's small for a guy and there's something kind of feminine about him. I think that's why people couldn't believe I hit him. Because he's small and I'm bigger.

He doesn't smile much, but when he does you can see dimples in his cheeks. There's a gap between his two front teeth and they're a little crooked because he still sucks his thumb. Most people don't know that about him, but I do… because I was someone he trusted.

I don't know if I still am.

It's funny. I have his entire body memorized to a T. I know where his birth marks are. I know where his moles are. I know all the stories behind his scars – some are secret and some are not so secret. He used to trust me with these pieces of himself. Now, I have a feeling things are different. I hurt him. More than once and in ways that probably can't be forgiven so easily.

It doesn't bother me as much as it should, though.

Bebe shrugs again. "Not like THAT… but I like him as a person. Plus, he's cute. Really cute. And he let me try things I didn't think I'd ever get to try…"

"You _fingered_ him…" I recall bitterly.

"He's a vocal guy…" she murmurs. "He seemed to like it."

"Of course he did," I reply, feeling annoyed. "He sleeps with guys. They probably do it to him, too."

Bebe smiles flatly. "I guess so. It was a one time thing, though. He said he just wanted to try it with a girl."

"It's fine…" I say. "You don't need to say anymore."

"You don't want to hear it," she adds knowingly, nodding. "Still, I'm sorry…"

"I know," I say. "Uh… I never told anyone this, but I ended up at his house the night I smacked him at school. I was drunk and I was being a dick…" I pause, wrinkling my nose. "I fucked him."

"Kenny…" Bebe says my name shakily.

"It wasn't like that," I murmur, irritated she'd think it. "I mean… I asked him if he was okay with it and he said he was and then we did it… and, yeah, I was rough… but he never protested…"

"He never does," she tells me.

"I know," I admit.

"So, you feel bad about it…?" she ventures.

I let out a breath. "He started crying over it after… I don't even know why. Then his parents walked in and they thought I raped him or something because apart from the crying, he was also naked and I had all my clothes on and he had some red marks from where I was holding him… and the bruise on his face from where I hit him earlier in the day."

"He liked you, y'know," Bebe whispers suddenly, saying it like she's been holding it in. "That's probably why he cried about it. He probably felt your anger."

"What?" I say flatly, somewhat taken aback.

"He LIKED you," she reiterates impatiently.

"Shit…" I deadpan, pressing my lips together.

Now I feel REALLY bad.

"Go see him," she murmurs, "and don't screw it up this time."

"Ah, fuck," I say.

So, I stop pussy-footing around and I finally decide to head to the Tucker house.

* * *

Luckily, there isn't a car in the driveway. I hope that means his parents are out. Laura is a receptionist and Thomas owns a bar with his brother, Skeeter. They both work hard, yet they're still on welfare. Then again, so is my family... though my parents don't work hard at all.

I knock on the door and a minute later, Craig answers. He looks surprised for a split second, but he quickly hides it before putting on a neutral expression. He tries to keep his expressions soft, passive, apathetic. It's rare to catch him visibly feeling something… but I think he felt an awful lot the last time I was here. I seem to make him cry a lot these days. I guess that makes me a real shitty guy.

Craig is the opposite of me. He's real good. A lot of people who don't know him might assume he's a dick because he is quiet, but he has a heart of gold.

Craig's blood type is O positive, so he donates a lot. The first time he did it was when our school had a blood drive. Not many students participated, but Craig did because they said his blood was the most needed. Sometime later, he got a phone call saying his blood saved the lives of three people. I was with him when he got the call. I didn't know what was going on because he had a weird look on his face. Then, in a meek, soft tone, he just said, " _Really?"_ For a minute, I thought someone fucking died… but, no. The exact opposite happened. Less than an hour of his time saved the lives of three people. He does it when he can, but I don't know if he'll be able to again any time soon since he sleeps with guys. It doesn't really make any sense to me… but I guess that means I can't donate for a while, either.

"You shouldn't be here," is the first thing out of his mouth.

"Why?" I ask.

"My parents don't want me to hang out with you anymore," he says.

I frown at that. "They think I raped you or something?" I bite out. "Did you just sit back and let them think I'm some sort of rapist?"

"Obviously not, Kenny," he murmurs. "I told them you didn't do anything, but they didn't believe me. I guess I kind of understand, though. What would you do if you had a child and you walked in on them in that sort of position?"

"I guess I'd think the worst…" I admit begrudgingly. "What happened after your dad chased me out?"

"My mom put a blanket over me and tried to get me to talk," he says with a shrug. "Honestly… I don't know why I got so upset. I can't really explain what I was feeling. I just felt overwhelmed in the most negative sense. I couldn't really keep it in…"

"You felt sad?" I pry.

"I suppose so," he says. "I mean… maybe I wanted it to be different. I know you weren't particularly gentle with me, but still…"

"I was mad," I tell him. "I just remember being pissed at you for what you did with Bebe… and it fucked me up."

"You were drunk, too, weren't you?" he asks. "I smelled alcohol in your breath. I tasted it, too."

"Yeah," I confess.

He nods his head and lets out a sigh before finally opening the door wider. "Come in… I guess we need to talk this over. My parents aren't home and neither is Ruby."

I let out a sigh and step inside.

"Want anything to drink?" he asks me.

"I'm fine," I tell him.

With that, we head upstairs into his bedroom.

He sits on the edge of his bed and stares at me expectantly, silently telling me to be the first to speak.

"I didn't feel threatened by you because you're gay," I say with a shrug. "Finding out you did it with Bebe was just… really surprising and upsetting. She's my ex. I was with her for two years and finding out one of my best friends screwed with her behind my back… Well, frankly, it was a shitty thing to do."

"I know," Craig whispers, avoiding eye contact with me.

"So, why the fuck did you do it?" I demand.

"I don't know," he says in that same, quiet voice. It makes him sound weak. I don't know if he's trying to manipulate the situation and make me pity him so I'll stop or if he's seriously feeling shy. He isn't typically a shy person – even when he's in trouble.

"You don't even LIKE girls…" I point out.

Everyone knows Craig is gay. It wasn't really a secret after he started dating his first boyfriend last year. His first boyfriend was Jason. No one really gave them shit for it because Jason is a pretty big, scary guy – especially when he's mad. No one wanted to cross a guy like that. They dated for six months until things finally went down the shitter at the start of this year. I think Craig has a type and his type is ASSHOLE. Jason is an ass. Steven is an ass… and I'm an ass.

"My uncle always wanted me to be different," Craig admits somewhat offhandedly. "I was never the most masculine guy... He'd always rag on my parents for letting me act 'so fruity' and he'd tell them to be harder on me. They never listened and they let me do what I want, but he tried to control what I did and how I acted. He'd always let me drink beer and he'd take me hunting and all this other 'manly' shit that I was never really interested in. Of course, when I brought home my first guy, he lost his shit."

"Jason, right?" I question.

Craig nods his head. "I just… I got so much shit for it. I wanted to know what it would be like with a girl… if it was something I could do again, then my relatives would just leave me alone."

"Craig, come on… that's fucking stupid."

He glances at me. "I'm aware of that, Kenny. Thank you."

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm. "So, you did it with Bebe… and you're still gay."

"Yeah," he mutters.

"And you let her fuck you like you'd let a man fuck you," I add.

"Yeah…" he repeats himself, closing his eyes briefly. His cheeks are a bit pink, like he's uncomfortable with the topic. "As you've already established – I'm a slut."

"I didn't mean that…" I tell him. "I was just pissed off."

He smiles bleakly. "I know. I've never seen you like that before, but I knew you were capable of that kind of behaviour. When you get angry… you _really_ get angry… and I kind of knew that what I did was going to bring out the worst in you, but I still did it. I just didn't think we'd end up doing what we did. I kept thinking you must hate me so, so much…"

"I felt betrayed and hurt and I wanted to make you feel that way, too," I confess.

"You did," he says.

"Is that why you didn't protest?" I ask. "Did you want to let me punish you?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe."

He stares away and down at his hands. He's fidgeting. He's nervous. I don't know why. Since when do I make him nervous? Since we fucked, I guess.

"Did you hate it?" I ask him.

"No…" he murmurs. "I don't know. It's complicated. The things you said made me wanna die, but that's just because I knew it was all true. I felt guilty. That's why I cried, I suppose."

He isn't going to tell me he likes me. I guess I can't really expect him to at this point.

I grit my teeth. "What should I have done differently?"

He glances at me, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

I shrug. "Just answer the question. If you could change the experience into something more enjoyable, what would you have had me do differently?"

"Um…" he starts, pausing. "Nothing, I guess."

"ARE you a fucking masochist?" I ask.

"Probably," he admits. "Do you think you'll get over me sleeping with Bebe?"

"Not for a while," I say.

I could tell him yes, I forgive him. I probably should be able to since he is being so forgiving right now… but I can't. I'm still angry. I'm angry because I didn't want her to see him like that. I didn't want him to see her like that, either. Why? Because I'm a selfish and possessive person and I treat people like they belong to me.

He lets out a shuddery sigh. "Well, then why the hell are you here?" he asks shakily. His voice grows wet, but I can tell he's trying to keep it down.

Maybe it's sick of me, but it kind of excites me when he starts crying. I grab his face and plant one on him. He sobs into my mouth, but he doesn't push me away. Not at first. When he does, it happens with a soft, wet _smack_ sound. "I'm dating Steven," he reminds me somewhat pleadingly, swiping at his wet cheeks. It's like he's begging me not to ask for more because he's too weak to say no.

"Who cares?" I retort, knowing fair and well how much of an asshole that makes me sound like. For some reason, I don't give a shit. All I know is that I want to do him… and I think he wants me to.

He sniffles a bit, wiping at his cheeks some more. "Why are you doing this?" he whimpers. "You're angry at me. You don't forgive me for sleeping with your ex. So, why the hell do you want to do this to me? To prove a point? To hurt me?"

"I don't know," I mutter.

He lets out a sob, leaning forward and putting a palm over his face.

I'm confusing him.

Now he feels conflicted.

He feels guilty.

He feels like a bad person.

He sounds like he's really losing it... and that excites me further.

I put a hand on his shoulder for a minute, but then I pull away. What right do I have to comfort him? I'm the one who's messing him up in the first place.

I know I should feel bad… but I don't.

Why?

Why don't I feel guilty?

Is something wrong with me?

Probably.

Craig stands up and tries to leave the room, but I'm quick to grab him by the wrist and pull him back. He falls backwards onto his mattress with a gasp, staring up at me with a mildly fearful expression.

"What are you going to do?" he asks shakily and I can't help but remember what we did the last time he asked me that question.

"What do you want me to do?" I retort.

Craig blinks and more tears escape. He grabs a handful of my shirt and then pulls me down so I'm on top of him. Then our mouths connect.

Why is he letting me do this?

Because he secretly still likes me?

He probably just hates himself.

When we separate, I slide a hand under his shirt, feeling the flat plane of his stomach. Then I move my hand down south. Craig lets out a gasp followed by a shuddery moan. "Take them off…" he whispers.

And I do.

Soon enough, he's naked and I'm biting the inside of his thigh.

"Don't…" he murmurs. "Steven will know…"

"So?" I ask.

He gives me a look of disbelief, but doesn't say anything else. His face is still flushed from when he was crying. He's a pretty crier. He's the kind of guy who looks good no matter what he's doing – even if it's something stupid. I guess that's why everything he does makes me stiff in the pants.

I grab his partial hard-on and lick a strip of skin up the shaft. Truth is, I've never done this before… not that I'm going to admit that to him. Especially not since he seems to like what I'm doing. I'll let him think I actually _know_ what I'm doing.

Craig is the only guy I've been with. Sure, I've thought about it before… I just never cared enough to make it happen. I guess somewhere along the line I ended up forming an attraction towards Craig. It isn't surprising, though. He's a very good looking guy, after all. He's perfect. It's almost unnatural.

After shouting a frantic warning, I end up swallowing a mouthful of his semen. Not great, but not horrible. I raise my head and stare at him.

"You're good at that," he comments somewhat breathlessly, sitting up.

"Thanks," I say. I guess I've been given enough oral to know the jist of what to do.

Craig reaches for the button on my jeans before unzipping them and freeing my hard-on. I can't believe I got a boner from gagging on a dick. Eheh.

Craig parts his lips and fits the entire length of my erection in his mouth like it's no big deal. I don't want to brag, but I'm pretty hung, so I'm definitely impressed. I've yet to meet a girl who could do that.

Craig is good at this. He's probably done it enough times. I don't really know if he has some sort of technique or what, but this is some of the best oral I've ever received. I need to try and think about weird shit so I don't jizz on the spot.

I close my eyes and feel my brows draw together.

"Wait…" I murmur.

He pulls away and stares at me. "Mm?" he asks.

"I wanna fuck you," I tell him.

"Oh," he says. "Can you, uh, put on a condom this time?" he requests. "I didn't really enjoy the clean-up last time…"

He hates himself and I'm taking advantage of that. He'll probably let anyone do anything to him. I bet I could hit him again and he'd forgive it.

But I won't.

"Sure," I say.

He reaches in his drawer and hands me one before grabbing a bottle of something sticky. He opens it and coats his fingers before lying back. This is something he didn't do last time. I probably didn't give him a chance to.

He slips two fingers in easily before adding a third. His eyebrows knit together and his eyes are closed. His lips part as he emits a quiet, little moan.

I roll the condom on, unable to take my eyes off of him. He shamelessly allows me to survey his lewd actions. He really isn't shy when it comes to this sort of thing.

"Kenny…" he says my name when he's no longer touching himself.

"Yeah?"

"Can you take your clothes off?" he asks me. "I really hate being the only one naked."

"Oh, uh… I guess," I say, standing up.

Truth is, I try not to do it unless I'm asked because my body is pretty scary to look at. I'm pretty scarred up. People always ask questions and it's a conversation I get tired of repeating over and over again. Basically, my dad is a piece of shit. I don't like to get too into it.

Still, I remove my clothes. It's kind of bright in his room, so I know he's going to see. He's going to get curious. He might not ask questions right away, but he sure as hell will later on.

If it wasn't for all the marks, I'd probably be pretty proud of my body. I'm tall and lean and I'm relatively strong.

"Oh, wow…" Craig murmurs solemnly.

"Not now," I tell him.

He closes his mouth, saying nothing more. He grabs a pillow and sticks it under his backside, allowing me easier access to his asshole. I get back in bed, kneeling between his spread legs. He reaches down, positioning me. "Here…" he murmurs.

I push forward and hold his legs back. I start things off slow, but then I pick up the pace and he's squirming around.

"Ah… ah, ah, ah, _fuck_ …!" he's nearly shouting.

Maybe I'm a sadist, but he's turning me on even more.

* * *

"Are you that rough with the girls you sleep with?" he asks me when it's over.

"No," I say.

He brushes it off, looking uncomfortable at my confession. "Um, so… are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I tell him firmly.

"What are they from?" he pries, gesturing towards my abdomen.

"My dad," I say vaguely.

Craig nods his head. "I heard the rumours, but I didn't want to assume anything…"

"Well, you can assume whatever you want because it's probably true," I snort. "He's a jackass."

"Is that why you're so mean?" Craig asks me. "There's usually a reason why people act a certain way."

I scoff at him, giving him a disapproving look. "Dude, shut the fuck up."

He flushes. "Sorry…"

"Let's talk about you instead," I say. "Why are you so permissive? There must be a reason for that, too."

"I don't know," he admits.

"You always say that," I mutter. "You don't seem to know much of anything."

I have a feeling I'm not the only one who takes advantage of his permissive nature… and I have a feeling he isn't as empty-headed as he acts. Maybe he really is a masochist. Then again, maybe he's just too used to people treating him like shit – people like his relatives.

"I think I loved you," he confesses out of the blue.

"What?" I deadpan.

"But now I just need to let it go," he finishes.

"Love?" I choke out in question.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "I know I'm only seventeen and maybe it's stupid for me to think I know what the word even means… but if I imagine what love feels like, then it's what I felt for you."

"Oh," I say.

"We can't do it again," he adds softly. "I'm… I'm with Steven."

"I know," I mutter. "You keep reminding me."

"Because you seem to forget," he retorts.

"For a while there, you seemed to happily forget about him, as well," I point out.

"I'm a bad person," he says.

I guess I make him feel that way… but I don't apologize. I'm one of those people who have a really fucking hard time saying sorry. The word just won't come out.

Craig isn't a bad person. He's just too damn nice for his own good... and maybe a little bit weak-willed, too.

"Keep me company until my parents get back?" Craig asks somewhat coyly.

I snort back a laugh and then say, "Okay."

We get dressed and put on Netflix and everything is normal again.

* * *

I leave his house around 7PM, sneaking out through the back door when his parents show up earlier than Craig anticipated.

At school the following day, Bebe gives me this disappointed, knowing look.

"Stay away from him," she murmurs.

"Just the other day you were telling me the opposite," I remind her.

"He didn't even have to tell me what you guys did," she whispers. "I sent you over there to APOLOGIZE… _not_ to fuck him again!"

I shrug carelessly. "Whatever. He's a good piece of ass."

Bebe scoffs at me. "You can't play with people like that, Kenny! If that's all you see him as, you better stop touching him. You don't deserve someone like him."

I roll my eyes at her sentimentality.

That shit makes me wanna barf.

* * *

 **2.**

On the weekend, me and Craig go for round three. This time, I call him over to my house. I'm surprised when he actually accepts my offer. It takes him a while to actually show up and it makes me wonder if he was hesitating at the doorstep or something. Nonetheless, I let him in.

The only reason I invited him here is because my parents aren't around. If they were, I'd probably just ask him if he was home alone.

Karen is in her bedroom and Kevin is downstairs, but they won't give me any trouble… Well, Karen might judge me since she's friends with Ruby and knows perfectly well that Craig is in a committed relationship… but she'd keep her mouth closed for my sake.

"Your parents aren't here, are they?" he asks me knowingly as we head upstairs.

"Nah," I say.

As soon as we're inside, I close my bedroom door and Craig immediately sinks to his knees, grabbing at the button on my jeans. He undoes it with practised ease and then unzips, pulling them down below my hips.

"I can't believe you said yes," I admit.

"Me, neither," he murmurs, jerking me off a bit with his hand.

He still loves me.

That much is clear.

And I guess I'm still taking advantage of him because whatever I feel for him is shallow. It isn't love. Love is… selfless. Whatever this is we're doing… It's not selfless.

* * *

After I fuck him, we lie side-by-side in my bed. My bed is just a mattress on the floor. It's always been that way. My room is also very tiny and I don't have much to decorate it. It's basically a little square. My dresser is inside my closet. My laptop is plugged into the wall and lying on the floor near my bed.

After a minute, I get up and grab a bottle of rum from my closet before rejoining Craig on the bed.

"Where'd you get this?" he asks me.

"My brother bought it for me," I tell him, cracking it open. I take a large swig before handing it to him.

"Oh," he says before doing the same. "Tell me a secret," he challenges. "It has to be something you've never told anyone."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because secrets hold power," he explains.

"And you want power?" I venture.

He likes secrets. I think knowing secrets gives him a sense of reassurance – people like him enough to share things and people trust him with their vulnerabilities. Plus… as he says, there's power. If you know enough of somebody's secrets, they won't fuck you over. You can tell them your own secrets and know that they won't make it known.

"Yes," he says simply.

"Over me?"

"Perhaps," he considers. "Anyway, tell me one."

"Hm…" I start, musing aloud. "Last year when I missed that week of class it was actually because I, uh, had… chlamydia."

Craig starts chuckling. "Oh."

It kind of annoys me that he doesn't sound shocked, but I shrug it off. "I got it from Annie and who the hell knows where she got it from…" I mutter. "I never told Annie because I was spiteful. I kind of forgot about the possibility of her spreading it to other guys. I don't know if she did… and I don't know how long it was until she found out, but whatever. It's probably one of the shittiest things I've ever done."

"Oh," Craig says again. "What was the shittiest thing you've ever done?"

I give him a look that says I know he knows… because he does. He just wants to hear me say it. He gives me a fake, little smile. He knows exactly what's going through my head right now.

"Well…?" he urges.

"This," I say. "I hit you, then I fucked you… and I kept thinking that I wanted to hurt you. So, I tried to, but I tried to do it in a way that you'd just write off as rough sex or something…"

"Yeah," he murmurs. "I knew that… and I pretended otherwise, still."

"I know," I say. "Why'd you do that?"

He shrugs. "It's just the kind of person I am."

"You're too permissive," I mumble. "You should get angrier at people."

"I forgive you for it," he adds quietly.

"Why?" I wonder, knowing I didn't really earn it. Even now, I'm not treating him the way he _deserves_ to be treated. He's no saint, but he's still a damn good person.

He wrinkles his nose. "I'm not sure."

I shrug it off. "Anyway, your turn. Tell me a secret."

"Fair is fair…" He pauses. "When I was fourteen I tried running away because my parents weren't paying any attention to me and I felt spiteful. I thought that it would change if they noticed I was gone. Anyway, It was late and I ended up getting felt up by a homeless guy at a bus station while contemplating my next move. It was really gross, but I guess I was shouting loud enough because two young women came and started smacking the shit out of him… There was a nightclub nearby and it looked like they were coming from there. Either way, I'm glad. They took me home after that and the whole 'running away' thing was short-lived. I kind of realized that being ignored by my parents was better than getting attention from the wrong kind of people. Or, well, I thought I learned that... but being around you makes me realize otherwise. I'm still that same, stupid kid."

I snort back a laugh. "That's pretty gross."

"S'fine," he says. "I was kinda disturbed for a while, but I got over it. Besides… I get now that my parents weren't ignoring me. They were just busy – busy trying to provide for me and Ruby."

"Yeah," I whisper.

We continue passing the bottle back and forth, talking about nothing in particular.

Knowing secrets makes him feel powerful...

Well, being around _him_ makes _me_ feel powerful. For once in my damn life.

* * *

When I wake up, it's 5AM and Craig is lying next to me. I shake him awake and then say, "You're not supposed to stay the night… I thought that was our unspoken agreement."

He scowls and shoves me away from him, getting up and grabbing his things up off the floor. "I didn't want to venture outside drunk," he says tersely, redressing. "This part of town isn't safe."

I bite my lower lip and throw my things back on after him. "Come on, I'll walk you back," I say.

"Don't bother," he mutters, shaking me off and letting himself out.

* * *

My parents still aren't home. Not that I care. They do this a lot. Sometimes they just disappear. Then they show up days or weeks later from whatever bender they were on.

At school, word gets around that Steven dumped Craig. I don't really care, but Craig seems to.

I find him behind the school sulking during my free period. "You good?" I ask, sitting down with him.

Craig scoffs. "Turns out he was cheating on me pretty much the entire time…"

"Damn," I mutter.

He shrugs. "I deserve it. I cheated on him, too. With you…"

"What now?" I ask him.

"Maybe I'll just go back with Jason," he contemplates. "He wants me. He says I'm the only guy for him, even though we fought a lot..."

"Dude, Jason is shit," I say. "When you guys dated, he showed all the guys in the locker room the nudes you sent him."

"Huh," he mumbles. "That explains a lot…"

I raise an eyebrow. "Aren't you mad?"

"Not really," he admits.

"Why?" I ask, incredulous. "If someone did that to me, I'd wring their neck."

He smiles wearily and then asks me, "So, did you look at them?"

"No," I say, even though I did.

"Liar," Craig calls me out.

"Fine," I relent. "Yeah, I looked. We all did."

Craig laughs at that and it sounds strange and unfamiliar to my ears. "Yeah, he told me he was going to do that. I didn't think he actually would."

"That's fucked up," I say.

"I egged him on," Craig reasons weakly. "I basically dared him to do it after he threatened to. We were fighting a lot..."

"Don't go back with him," I reiterate. "He's shit."

"So are you," Craig murmurs.

"Yeah," I admit. "I guess I am."

"And I'm beginning to realize that that's probably not going to change," he adds.

"Probably not," I agree.

* * *

 **3.**

Craig ends up sleeping with Tweek. I know because when I sneak into Craig's house through the basement window, they're both lying naked in his bed. Craig sits up with a gasp and grabs the blanket, draping it over his lower region.

"Why cover up?" I ask, feeling snarky. "I've seen it all before. I'm sure there isn't any guy around here who hasn't seen all your… _charm_."

He scoffs at me. "Stop being jealous."

"Stop being a damn slut!" I respond loudly and angrily.

He's taken aback by the insult and his eyes widen momentarily. "What are you going to do?" he asks me quietly. "Hurt me some more? You don't OWN me!"

Tweek raises an eyebrow. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Mind your own business, tweaker," I bite back at him.

He laughs in disbelief. "Wow, okay then… Not getting in the middle of some lover's quarrel." He gets up and gets dressed, telling Craig, "See yah."

Craig grinds his teeth together. "I can't BE with someone like you…"

"Why?"

"Because I deserve better!" he shouts, like he's trying to get me to understand it. "You make me hate myself and it needs to stop!"

I laugh at that because the notion is ridiculous to me. "Where's this coming from? I haven't made you hate yourself, Craig," I say. "You already hated yourself. Sure, though, maybe I made it a little worse. Maybe I helped you realize that you're a fucking weak person… but it's not all my fault. You have free will. So, don't blame me for all of this shit."

He stares at me and there's a look in his eyes that I haven't seen before.

"What changed?" I ask him, because it's clear that SOMETHING has.

I move towards him and he whispers, "Don't…"

I continue to move forward until I'm standing by his bed. I sit with him and lean closer. "Don't what?" I ask.

"You need to leave…" he says.

"Say it like you mean it," I tease him.

I feel like I broke this kid. He was never particularly strong, but he wasn't this damn weak. Maybe he's right. Maybe I did a lot more than I'm taking credit for.

"What are you going to do?" he chokes out the question.

"I don't know," I say. I raise a hand and slide it down his bare chest.

He shivers and closes his eyes. He doesn't want me to touch him.

"Craig," I say his name.

He shakes his head, his eyes still glued shut. He lets out a quiet, shuddery sob.

"Craig," I say his name again, this time in a sing-song tone.

I remove my hand and he opens his eyes. "I really meant it when I said I loved you," he says in a whisper. His voice gets high-pitched, the way it sounds when he's crying. "And I also meant it when I said I had to let it go…" He blinks and tears fall as he unwillingly welcomes the waterworks. He begins shaking like a leaf, his entire body wracking with grievous sobs. It's like he doesn't know what to do with whatever it is he's feeling.

"It turns me on when you do that," I tell him.

That only makes him cry harder. They're frightened cries. I can tell. They sound different than all the other times I've made him cry. I can tell this time that he truly doesn't want me.

So, with a sigh, I leave.

I don't want to play this game anymore. If he doesn't want me, then I've lost.

* * *

Clyde calls me a sociopath and punches me in the face on Monday, knocking the wind right out of me in the middle of the hallway. I guess Craig finally told him what we've been doing – or, rather, what I've been doing TO him.

I guess that's what changed.

Clyde. Saint Clyde fucking Donovan!

He has a way with words. Maybe he actually managed to show Craig that what we were doing was fucked up. Maybe he made Craig see that he deserves more. Then again, maybe Craig just transferred his affections away for me and towards his best friend, his knight in shining fucking armor. So, now he's fucking other people waiting for Clyde to notice.

"Never touch him ever again," Clyde spits. "If you do, I'll do way worse."

And I don't doubt that. A guy like Clyde can easily kick my ass.

So, I skip out on school and head back home.

By now, my parents are back from wherever they've been. Since I'm in a chaotic mood, I start a fight with my dad and it gets my adrenaline pumping. I egg him on a lot – more than I'd care to admit. It always feels good to tell him exactly what I think of him, even if I end up paying the price for it.

When the fight gets physical, my mom starts shouting at us to cut it out.

Of course, we don't. We don't stop until my dad has had enough.

This time, however, things are different.

Things are different because the basement door is open.

Things are different because my dad pushes me.

Things are different because I feel my damn bones crack on the way down.

Things are different because I hit my head.

Things are different because…

* * *

Maybe karma is real.

That's my first thought when I wake up. I'm in a hospital and it's bright. My brother and sister are in the room alongside a doctor. The woman asks me questions, checking my vitals, telling me what happened as if I didn't already know.

"You fell down the stairs."

Yeah… Maybe karma is real and this was a warning sign. Maybe the universe is telling me I need to change myself. Maybe this is what I get for messing with Craig. Then again, maybe my dad _is_ the reason I'm such a piece of shit. Or maybe I'm just being a dumbass and none of these things connect. Still, I feel like I could change my life right now. I could tell the cops my dad hits me. There would be an investigation. Maybe they'd lock him away… but I don't do any of that.

Instead, I tell them I tripped. I tell them I'm a clumsy person and then I laugh it off.

When they're gone, Karen asks me if I'm mentally disturbed. I smile and say, "Probably."

"You never cry," she adds, almost like an afterthought.

I try to think about the last time I cried, but I can't. I guess she's right. I never cry. I don't know why. Even if I wanted to cry, I doubt I could.

Later on, Kyle, Stan and Eric come to visit me. Eric rips on me for being a clumsy idiot and we all try to make light of the situation, but I think that deep down they know the truth. It's just easier to pretend.

I broke my arm. Now I have a cast. I let my friends sign it. Eric draws a penis.

I also split my forehead open. I guess I'm just fortunate my brain didn't end up on the basement floor. I just needed stitches. Apart from all that, I bruised a few ribs. I guess I'm lucky.

I put on this big, dumb smile and pretend that everything's all right. I pretend I'm not a fucking horrible person.

I wonder if anyone will care that I'm in the hospital or that I almost died.

I wonder if Craig will find out.

I wonder if he'll know my dad almost killed me.

I wonder if he'll care.

After all the shit I did to him… probably not. He'll probably think this is my just desserts.

So, yeah…

Maybe karma is real.

.

.

.

 **Epilogue.**

I'm alone. Of course.

Craig started dating Clyde. Inevitable. It's like a fucking fairy tale story - the two best friends who fall in love with one another. It's too perfect.

Craig really made the rounds this year – Jason, Steven, Bebe, me, Tweek… and now Clyde. I stand by what I said. He's a damn slut… not that I cared and not that I'm any different. I've probably slept with more people than he has.

I never apologized for fucking up his life for those few months. I guess it's good he ended up with a guy as nice as Clyde, though. Clyde is one of those do-good types. He's sincere. He's the opposite of me. I guess Craig finally broke the cycle he was stuck in by deciding to date a decent guy for once – a guy much better than I could ever be. Maybe I hate Clyde so much because he's the kind of person I used to aspire to be… but I never could. When I look at him, I just get depressed.

I wonder if Craig still thinks about me much. It's safe to say we're no longer friends and we never will be again. I wonder if he's fallen out of love yet… and I wonder if it was a painful thing for him to have to do. I hope it was because I want to leave an imprint.

Maybe there's a part of me that wishes I could have been Craig's knight. I'd support him, care for him… I'd be kind… but no. I'm not that kind of guy and I'm not capable of that kind of sentiment. If that makes me a bad person, then so be it.

I'm possessive. That's why I'm so fucking angry. I don't want Craig to belong to anyone except me. I want him to want me, that way I can keep playing around with him.

It's pretty twisted.

 _I'm_ pretty twisted.

Sometimes in class I notice Craig looking at me from my peripheral vision, but I always pretend not to notice. I haven't spoken to him since he lost his shit at me a few months back. I really drove him nuts. I think that was his breaking point. So, I guess there's something good about all the bad shit I did to him. If I didn't fuck him up, he'd still be going after guys who walk all over him.

It's funny… really. Craig used to be so damn tough. I guess it was all a mask because in reality he was so damn weak. Maybe that's changed. Then again, maybe not.

Today is a Monday. My arm healed. I'm at school, but I'm not in class. I'm skipping and I'm sitting behind the school smoking a cigarette. At some point, I hear the door open behind me and I pray that it isn't a teacher. I close my eyes as the footsteps draw closer… then I hear someone sit down beside me. When I open my eyes, I see Craig.

Speak of the devil.

"What the hell do you want?" I ask him.

If Craig truly hated himself, things wouldn't have changed. Maybe I'm the one who is full of self-hate. Maybe Craig knows that.

He smiles bleakly. "Is that really how you greet someone?"

I don't respond, I just shake it off and inhale on the cigarette between my lips.

"I wanted to visit you, but I was advised against it…" he says vaguely.

I shrug. "It's fine."

"What happened?" he asks. "Everyone said you fell…"

"Then I fell," I say.

"Really?" he murmurs.

I smile faintly. "Nah, not really."

He frowns, reading between the lines. "You're not a nice person, but you don't deserve some of the things life hands you."

"How quaint," I say with insincerity.

"You can still change, you know," he says.

I just shrug the thought off. "Are you happy now?"

"I am," he says humbly. "Clyde… He's good. I don't know why I didn't notice it sooner."

"That's why you didn't notice it. You didn't notice it because he's good and because you had to learn the hard way that shitty guys won't change," I tell him simply. "Your lack of self-respect got in the way of things. You had to fuck every piece of shit before realizing your soulmate was standing right in front of you."

"I suppose," he relents.

"Well, either way, I'm glad for you," I tell him, trying not to sound bitter.

"You could be happy, too," he points out.

I shrug, flicking the cigarette down the snowy stairwell. "Probably not. I've never been happy once in my damn life. I can't see it happening now."

"You're bitter because you feel like the world is against you," he murmurs.

"It is," I respond firmly.

Craig lets out a sigh and I can tell he's not going to say anything more on the topic. "I forgive you, either way… even if you don't want to change and even if you wouldn't take back the things you did."

"Why?" I wonder. "I was a pretty huge dick… and I never forgave you for sleeping with Bebe."

"It's okay," he tells me. "I want to move on from all of that… So, I'm forgiving you. Again."

I stare at him, trying to read him… but I can't. His expression is completely void of emotion. "Y'know," I start, "I didn't actually care that you slept with Bebe for the reason you think I did. Knowing you went with her made me mad… and I guess I blamed you because you were easier to blame and easier to get back at. I'm a possessive person. I just got jealous that you two did something like that with each other behind my back. What I felt for you... was just pure selfishness."

Craig smiles bleakly. "Wow… That's really awful."

"I know," I say.

"I used to try and convince myself that you felt something for me," he confesses with bitterness. "Something romantic... I tried to convince myself that that's _why_ you were so vile... but that's stupid. I don't think you're capable of feeling something like that for someone like me. Maybe you're not capable of feeling it at all."

"Do you still forgive me?" I wonder.

"Yes," he says. "Like I said, I want to move on. I guess this is your way of saying you forgive me, too, then."

"I guess," I admit.

Maybe guys like me are meant to be alone… and maybe I have no reason to complain about it.

"You don't love me anymore, huh?" I ask.

"No," he admits. "There will still be feelings… but whatever is left, it's not love."

I nod my head slowly. "Does it make Clyde jealous?"

Craig lets out a short laugh. "Yes, but he tries not to show it because he thinks the whole thing is immoral. He doesn't want to be jealous of a guy who really screwed me up."

"What a saint he must be," I mutter.

"None of us are saints," Craig says sagely, "but he's definitely a good person."

I force a smile.

This is it, I guess.

Closure.

Craig probably needed this more than I did… Then again, maybe we both needed it just as much. I can't deny that Craig is often on my mind. Maybe this will finally get rid of him. I think I'd like that, because in all honesty, it isn't fun anymore. It stopped being fun a long time ago and now it just kind of hurts.

"Do you honestly think a person like me can change?" I wonder aloud.

"Everyone can change," Craig says softly. "As long as they want to, that is."

I don't really know where I'll be tomorrow or after that or after that.

When the conversation dies down once more, Craig stands.

"So, this is it?" I murmur.

"I think so," he responds.

Maybe the future will hold something better for me. Then again, maybe not… but I'll try optimism for once.

"Goodbye, Craig," I say.

"Goodbye, Kenny," he echoes.

 **Fin.**


End file.
